When it rains, it pours: Welcom to fuckin Oregon.
Anyone interested in killing a half-drowned rat for me? Anyone?
...
maybe a moderately short story might help my case.
Today I woke up way too early for my own good. I drank three cups of coffee and proceeded to feel sick until noonish. But I was awake, to say the least. I was flooded with homework and projects, one of my teachers did it because our class is full of fucking retards who can't shut up for 10 minutes at a time. In the afternoon, the physical sickness replaced itself with sickness of the emotional sort: I was more than a little confused and felt very fucked up. I walked to Hillsdale with Miller, and in the chilling wind and rain, my hat flew off my head and I chased it into a puddle. I put the soggy little thing in my bag and used Miller's umbrella. Got on the bus and started reading Memoirs of A Geisha. It's a great book, one of those that it's hard to put down, and you really get sucked into. This particular bit of it was more than a little depressing. Which didn't negate the quality of the book by any means, but certainly didn't negate my generally bad mood either. Got downtown and met Conor, and right away felt like the biggest jerk on the face of the planet. We hung out for a little while, got quite a bit of weight off my chest, but still didn't feel within a mile of a good mood. On the bus, I ran into Talia. It was very nice, I haven't seen or talked to her in a good 2 and a half years, and we did a bit of catching up. I got off the bus at my stop, and within 10 seconds, I was on the ground, in the mud, along with my backpack and jacket that cost more than my life. While walking across the street, I found myself wishing a car would come zipping around the corner and hit me, just to save me some trouble of having to walk home. Fought my way against the now more fierce wind and rain, freezing my ass off, to be met by smiling cheery faces, I myself in tears. My bag and much of it's contents are now muddy and/or wet to the point of being useless.
And thus ends one of the worst, (if not /the/ worst) days of my life.
Explaination of the rat comment: I feel like a small dying animal who needs to be put out of its mysery. I know, I'm being emo. life goes on, right?
I should really just go to sleep before today gets any worse.
...Okay, maybe short wasn't the right word.
...
maybe a moderately short story might help my case.
Today I woke up way too early for my own good. I drank three cups of coffee and proceeded to feel sick until noonish. But I was awake, to say the least. I was flooded with homework and projects, one of my teachers did it because our class is full of fucking retards who can't shut up for 10 minutes at a time. In the afternoon, the physical sickness replaced itself with sickness of the emotional sort: I was more than a little confused and felt very fucked up. I walked to Hillsdale with Miller, and in the chilling wind and rain, my hat flew off my head and I chased it into a puddle. I put the soggy little thing in my bag and used Miller's umbrella. Got on the bus and started reading Memoirs of A Geisha. It's a great book, one of those that it's hard to put down, and you really get sucked into. This particular bit of it was more than a little depressing. Which didn't negate the quality of the book by any means, but certainly didn't negate my generally bad mood either. Got downtown and met Conor, and right away felt like the biggest jerk on the face of the planet. We hung out for a little while, got quite a bit of weight off my chest, but still didn't feel within a mile of a good mood. On the bus, I ran into Talia. It was very nice, I haven't seen or talked to her in a good 2 and a half years, and we did a bit of catching up. I got off the bus at my stop, and within 10 seconds, I was on the ground, in the mud, along with my backpack and jacket that cost more than my life. While walking across the street, I found myself wishing a car would come zipping around the corner and hit me, just to save me some trouble of having to walk home. Fought my way against the now more fierce wind and rain, freezing my ass off, to be met by smiling cheery faces, I myself in tears. My bag and much of it's contents are now muddy and/or wet to the point of being useless.
And thus ends one of the worst, (if not /the/ worst) days of my life.
Explaination of the rat comment: I feel like a small dying animal who needs to be put out of its mysery. I know, I'm being emo. life goes on, right?
I should really just go to sleep before today gets any worse.
...Okay, maybe short wasn't the right word.